


Her Own Name

by classicfirefly



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Gen, allura is the popular queen we all love and adore, set like a hundred years later after zarkon or whatever has been defeated, she gets a ballad dedicated to her
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2019-03-04 16:14:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13368417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/classicfirefly/pseuds/classicfirefly
Summary: Queen Allura's legacy is celebrated many years after Voltron has defeated Zarkon, even amomgst the Galra.





	Her Own Name

It is a universal tradition and has been around for as long as Novlak can remember, and her mother, and her mother's mother. Perhaps not so long, then. But this tradition is certainly important, at least among the Galra and the rest of the Voltron Alliance.   
  
It is a wonderful festival of gleaming lights and costumes and mock-battles and parades. There are beautifully dressed people, some not even Galra, but wishing to take part in the festivities all the same. Dancers perform almost wildly, holding great fiery torches. Replicas of ancient armour, ships, robotic lions and weaponry lay scattered on stall tables. It is infectious, the joyous mood.   
  
And the storytelling. Oh, the storytelling.    
  
Novlak loves it. Loves to sit on the dusty blue-grey rocks, head tilted as she listens to the storyteller weave legends of greatness and heroes and brave deeds. Often the nameless old warrior woman with dark skin and bright eyes would attend the festival, eating the green goo that was traditional food and watching the mock-battles of the evil Zarkon and Voltron with a tinge of amusement. No one seems to take much notice of her, but Novlak does. She takes too much notice of everything. Her grandmother agrees on that.   
  
The warrior woman's eyes meet hers unexpectedly in a strong, gentle gaze. Novlak trembles at the powerful gleam in the woman’s eyes, but she can't look away as the old woman inclines her head. It's with a strange pull of curiosity that Novlak steps forward and sits beside the old woman. "Do you have a name?" She offers tentatively, shaky in her voice.   
  
The old woman considers the question, and nods. "I do." Her voice is not feeble, but strong and lively.   
  
"What...what is your name? I'm Novlak," the Galra adds hastily, not wishing to seem impolite.   
  
The old woman smiles but gestures to the stage, as if that is an answer in itself.   
  
The storyteller starts the poem in his clear voice, but the children always join in; they know it by heart.   
  
_ "Noble born, courage sworn, _ __   
_ A queen of old, her story is told. _ __   
_ And the very stars told her, or so legend goes: _ __   
_ 'Wake from your slumber; end the war.' _ __   
_ Her planet destroyed, her father gone, _ __   
_ The princess called upon Voltron. _ __   
_ Five of Earth, the Planet of Life _ __   
__ Were chosen by her to stop all strife."   
  
The old woman smiles wider. "They glorify this queen, don't they?"   
  
Novlak's eyes widen. She has never heard someone say anything remotely bad about the stories. "I think this queen is perfectly real," she defends. "My grandmother says that she has seen the princess before in battle. Grandmother was in the Blade of Marmora and saw the red paladin himself join their ranks! She speaks of the queen as if the queen had fire in her soul!"   
  
The old woman looks surprised and maybe even sad. Why would she be sad? "The red paladin...Keith."   
  
Novlak nods in agreement. "The Fire Guardian was a very good fighter, but to me Pidge is my favourite paladin...yet neither are to my liking so much as the queen."

  
The old woman looks pleased.   
  
The storyteller bangs his drum, sounding a low echo, and the second verse of the story continues:   
  
_ "Magic ran in her blood, the tale says, _ __   
_ Unmatched in beauty and last of her race. _ __   
_ Lion goddess of those in Arus _ __   
_ Saviour of the Balmera to which she was gracious." _   
  
The warrior woman shakes her head. "Unmatched in beauty...this flattery. I would never have thought that the Galra would one day compliment an Altean, years and years ago."   
  
"We changed. All is well."   
  
"Indeed you have," the woman murmurs, "And I am glad for it."   
  
The drum echoes again. It is a low sound, and it cuts through the valley.   
  
_ "Wielder of the staff and a great fighter _ __   
_ She carried the burden of war and made it lighter _ __   
_ Lions of steel were by her side _ __   
_ Rest assured, evil could never hide _ __   
_ From her bright-eyed gaze _ __   
_ As all malice cannot raze." _   
  
"Burden of war, make it lighter...they credit me too much."   
  
Novlak tilts her head, eyes widening. "You?" She notes the woman's straight posture, pointed ears, long white hair. At first she doesn't get it.   
  
Then Novlak sees it. The distinctly pink Altean marks under the woman's beautiful eyes. The glint of gold circling her head. The staff she grips like it is an old friend.   
  
The woman's fiery stare is galaxies away. "Yes. Me."   
  
A breath hitches in Novlak's throat as the storyteller bangs his drum again; it is the last verse of the story.   
  
_ "The princess of Altea did end the war _ __   
_ The universe in peace high and far _ __   
_ This for which we today call _ __   
_ Her own name..." _   
  
Novlak whispers the word as her fellow Galra shout it cheerfully, a resounding rallying call.  __ "Allura."

**Author's Note:**

> not gonna lie this isn't my best work but I tried my best haha :')


End file.
